Supernatural: I had a headache

THEN: “What are we doing? You know who [hunts ghosts]? CRAZY PEOPLE!! We. Are insane!”

NOW

What was that Dean was saying about the sanity challenged? Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital.

Ketchum, Oklahoma. Evaluation notes for Susan Fletcher, which include a newspaper clipping. The headline reads “Young boy dies tragically in early morning house fire.” Well, that would do it. The doctor is concerned by reports that Susan isn’t taking her meds. Well, she has a very good reason. They make her sleepy … and if she sleeps It will come. It killed Annie. The doctor tries to take a tone that is caring and understanding but firm. He reminds her that she’s a schizophrenic. Her mind plays tricks on her. Sometimes she sees things. Susan agrees. She says she can see her dead son standing right behind the doctor, but she knows the adorable dark eyed moppet isn’t real. But there is nothing imaginary about her fear, and she speaks with lucid conviction when she tells him the monster is real.

The doctor leans back in his chair and takes a different tack. What happened to her roommate Annie has been painful for everyone. “Perhaps it’s easier for you to conjure up a ‘monster’ than to face how tragic her suicide really was.” Susan is desperate for him to believe her. She can hear it at night … in the walls. Please. He leans forward again and removes his glasses. He has had just about enough of this nonsense young lady!

“There is no such thing as monsters.”

Lights out. Susan is alone in her room, huddled on the bed in the small patch of light that bleeds in through the blinds. She hears a knock in the ceiling above her, and then slowly walks across the room until she’s directly underneath the air vent. She stares up at it with wide terrified eyes as one of the screws in the vent cover begins to turn. She screams, begging for help. Her cries only illicit a weary “They’re starting early tonight” from the seen-it-all night nurse.

Susan crouches against the wall under the window as the first screw falls to the floor. She flings herself against the door to her room, face pressed up against the window, hysterical with fear. Across the hall, another patient watches in horror as she’s suddenly jerked away from behind. Morning. The night nurse opens the door to Susan’s room to find her laying on the floor, blood pooled under each wrist, dead. Just another suicide.

Another day, another evaluation. This time, Sam and Dean sit across from the good doctor. He isn’t quite sure what to make of them. He begins by commenting that they were referred by a Doctor Babar in Chicago. “Isn’t there a children’s book about an elephant named Babar?”

Dean is the picture of filial concern when he says that he thinks Dr. Babar was in over his head with “this one,” pointing at Sam. To punctuate the statement he does the universal symbol for “this boy ain’t right.” The doctor stops him before he can actually start making “cuckoo! cuckoo!” noises. He’d like to hear from “Alex” about how he’s feeling. Sam insists he’s fine. Maybe a little depressed, what with the whole starting the Apocalypse and all. Dean eyebrows a “see what I’m dealing with” look to the doctor who stops writing and cuts a “what in the who now?” at Sam. He tries to explain – Lilith, Lucifer, Apocalypse. Now he and Dean are trying to stop the Devil from destroying mankind. Oh, and there’s also an angel helping them. The doctor is doing his best to keep up, and asks if Sam is speaking metaphorically. “You mean like an angel on your shoulder.” No, not so much. Castiel set the record straight on that issue back in Season 4. Also, “he wears a trench coat.” Heh. Dean tries to drive home the point about just how messed up Sam is. “The kid’s been beating himself up about this for months. The Apocalypse wasn’t his fault.” Oh, hello crazy in stereo. Would you care to elaborate? “It was this other demon Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood, and near the end he was practically chugging the stuff.” Sam looks away, abashed. He gently shakes his head as Dean says he’s not evil. “He was just … high.” Sam nods along in agreement. It’s true Doctor. I was hopped up on demonic goof balls. Dean finishes his assessment by asking if the doc can fix Sam up “so we can get back to traveling around the country and hunting monsters.”

The doctor holds up a finger, indicating he needs just a moment, before dialing through to his secretary and asking her to cancel his lunch. Dean reaches over to Sam and gives him a reassuring pat on the arm. Everything is going to be okay. Hee.

They walk down the hall behind a chipper nurse who explains that Doctor Fuller (at last! A name!) would like to keep them both for observation for a few days. Dean gives her a cranky “me too??” but then turns and shoots a sly grin at Sam. Crazy? Crazy like a fox!

Nurse Chipper wraps a blood pressure cuff around Dean’s arm, explaining she’s just going to give him a “little checkup.” He and his mocha henley of hotness waste no time in setting some boundaries. “Look Nurse Ratched, let’s get one thing straight. I’ve seen Cuckoo’s Nest, so don’t try any of that soul crushing authoritarian crap on me, hmm?” Nurse Chipper looks up at him with an indulgent smile and an “okie-dokie.” Dean silently wonders if he should reconsider his previous stand on liking people who say “okie-dokie”.

She pulls off the cuff, and lightly tells Sam he can go ahead and take down his pants, as she snaps on a latex glove. Sam takes a deep breath, and thinks of England.

Exams completed, Sam finds Dean in the day room where he’s brooding on the various indignities visited upon them. “How was your Silkwood shower?” Good, good … “good water pressure.” How was Dean’s? Did the nurse … “She was very thorough.” He grimaces and then casts a look around the room. He can’t believe he let Sam talk him into this. As I recall, Sam said the same thing while you were both incarcerated in “Folsom Prison Blues”. He thinks it’s the least they could do for a friend. “Martin saved Dad’s aspirations more times than we can count. He’s a great hunter.” Correction. He was a great hunter. “Until Albuquerque.” This earns Dean a baby b-face. Fine, he’s not wrong, but Sam thought it best that they keep busy. He reluctantly admits that Dean’s behavior over the last few weeks has been worrying him. Dean reacts as we’ve come to expect – badly. He’s affronted by Sam’s attempts to “head shrink” him, and insists that while Ellen and Jo’s deaths were tragic, he’s not going to wallow in it. Sam calls him out – he always does this. “You can’t just keep this crap in.”

“Watch me.”

Dean cuts off any further discussion by walking over to Martin. Hey, it’s Roger Workman! Hi Roger Workman! He’s sitting by a window, staring off into space. He reacts with delighted surprise when he sees the boys. “Wow! Wow, you boys got big.” Hee. He invites them to sit down before explaining that in the old days he could have taken care of the problem with both hands tied behind his back. But now … Sam tries to focus him by asking what he thinks it is they’re hunting. He doesn’t have any good ideas, hasn’t seen it himself, and the few witnesses who have caught a glimpse are not what Dean would consider “reliable.” There’s an air of jittery energy about Roger Workman that suggests he is seeing monsters where there aren’t any. He knows they have their doubts about him, but he insists he wouldn’t have called unless there was something there. He can feel it in his gut. They boys exchange a look. That’s good enough for now. Sam reassures him they believe him, and then asks if Roger Workman has checked any of the bodies. He blinks as though the word is a knife in his brain. He haltingly explains that he doesn’t go around dead …b-b-bodies … anymore. Dean is taken aback by Roger Workman’s physical reaction to the word and the memories. What exactly happened in Albuquerque?

We won’t be finding out today. They’re interrupted by Dr. Fuller. He’s glad to see that Alex and Eddie are making friends. HAH! He suggests the Sam and Roger Workman join him for group. As they walk away he stops Dean, explaining he’ll be in the afternoon group. “To be frank, the relationship you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.” Yeah, see they tried that? Didn’t work out. Lasted all of two episodes.

But whatever, you’re the doctor. We join group, where Dr. Fuller is dearly wishing that anyone other than Ted had their hand up to share. Anyone? Poor Ted leans forward in his chair, hand vibrating like a third grader. Ooh! Ooh! Mistah Kottah! Mistah Kottah! With an air of resignation, the doctor recognizes him. Ted would very calmly like to talk about the monster that is hunting them. Sam and Roger Workman trade meaningful looks. While he agrees that the topic isn’t good for group, he strongly feels that a monster eating all their faces off isn’t good either. Fuller tries to change the subject, and Ted blurts out that he saw it when it killed Susan. Another member of the group decides she wants to play. She saw it too! It had big lobster claws, and it was an alien, like on X-Files. Ted yells at her to stop helping. He grows more agitated as he insists that they’re all dead. The doctor cuts him off before removing his glasses again, and coldly enunciating that there is. No. Monster! That’s all the confirmation that Sam’s worried brow needs. There is totes a monster in this hospital.

Back in the day room, Dean is doing what he does – fitting in. He’s playing checkers with himself, and gleefully shouts “king me!” as he hops his piece across the board. He’s distracted by the appearance of a tall, pretty brunette. Dr. Erica Cartwright. She’s been assigned his case. Dean instantly shifts into “hey, how you doing” mode. Lucky him. Dr. Erica doesn’t bite. “You’re my paranoid schizophrenic with narcissist personality disorder and religious psychosis. Lucky me.” She sits down across from him and they engage in a rapid fire back and forth. They each have questions. “Well then, quid pro quo Clarice.” While Dean goes through the usual drill – notice anything strange, black smoke, sulfur smell, cold spots – Dr. Erica attempts to probe his psyche. How many hours a night does he sleep? “3 or 4, every couple of nights.” How many drinks does he have a week? “Well, I gotta sleep some time, so uh … [doing math in his head] somewhere in the mid fifties.” When was the last time he was in a long term relationship, defined as lasting more than two months. Dean doesn’t blink or stop to think as he replies, “Never.” That exhausts Dean’s list, but Erica is just getting started. “So. Let’s talk about your father.”

Dean walks down the hall, eyes on the floor, shoulders slumped. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his blue bath robe. Sam comes out of a room behind him, and reacts with shocked concern when he sees his face. He’s not accustomed to seeing his brother with all his defenses down. Is he okay? “I just got ‘theraped’. So no, I am not okay.” Sam suggests they meet back in an hour so they can talk to Ted. Sounds like a plan to Dean. He’s ready to wrap up this case and get gone. “This place gives me the creeps.” He turns and almost runs into the pretty blonde standing right behind him. She puts a hand on the back of his neck, and plants one on him. She breaks off the kiss and introduces herself as Wendy. As she walks away, she gives Dean an appreciative smack on the aspiration. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.”

And since that is probably the closest I will ever come to hearing my name on the show, I’m totally taking it as a shout out. Shout out!

After lights out, the boys release themselves on their own recognizance using what I hope are lock picks they made on site. Otherwise that would explain the need for the full cavity search. They head to Ted’s room, and as they come around the corner they hear him screaming. His feet slam against the inside of the door, and he seems to be walking up the window. As Sam works at the door knob, Dean yells at him to hurry, and gets a “BACK OFF” in return. Well, that seemed a little more vehement than was warranted, Sam. That’s something you might want to bring up tomorrow in group. He finally gets the door open, and they walk into the room only to be confronted by the site of Ted hanging from the ceiling by a bed sheet.

Later that night? Next day? Who knows. Enough time has passed that Ted has been transported to the morgue. Sam and Dean pull the body from the wall. Action stations! Action stations! Set condition single layer throughout the fandom! This is not a drill! For indeed, they’ve ditched the robes, and are in scrub pants and white v-neck t-shirts. O hai! We haven’t seen you since ” In My Time of Dying.” Dean begins to examine Ted’s hands, while Sam feels around his neck. Yahtzee. He finds a puncture wound below his ear near the base of the skull. He inserts a swab into the wound. It keeps going … and going … and going, until Sam realizes that the hole goes all the way through to the brain. “What does that mean?” Well, why don’t we fire up the bone saw sitting nearby and find out? Dean is only too happy to excuse himself from the room to stand watch outside. He inwardly groans and throws up in his mouth a little bit as the whirring whining sound of the saw carries out into the hallway. I like that they’re maintaining the consistency of this character trait with Dean. It goes all the way back to Season 2 and “Blood Lust.” He’s seen a lot of terrible things, and more than his share of bodies among them, but the squeamish kicks in when the dissection kit comes out.

Sam meanwhile has managed to saw through the top of Ted’s skull, setting it neatly aside. He reaches into his now lidless melon and pulls his brain out. It is the color and texture of a large avocado. It’s been sucked dry. Dean reenters to sound the alarm that someone is coming. Sam manages to reassemble Ted and discard his bloody gloves just as Nurse Chipper pushes through the swinging doors. I’m going to let the fact that his white t-shirt is still spotless slide, given what happens next. They try to look natural and not at all suspicious while grasping for a way to explain away their presence. Dean comes through in the clutch with his usual flair. He plasters a village idiot grin on his face before pulling his pants down around his ankles, throwing his hands up over his head, and announcing ” PUDDING!!” He bounces on the balls of his feet and throws in a little hip shimmy for good measure. *ahem* I’ll be in my bunk *ahem*. Chipper takes in the show before calmly opening the door and gesturing for them to exit. Before he leaves, Dean turns back to Sam and stage whispers, “crazy works.” HEE!

The next morning, the boys join Roger Workman in the day room to discuss the previous night’s events. Dean comments on the art hanging on the wall next to him, wondering if they’re “original Gacy’s.” Um, Roger Workman painted those. Awkward. Sam gets the conversation back on point, as Roger Workman flips through his mental rolodex to come up with a monster that fits the m.o. They’ve got a wraith on their hands. He’s never tangled with one, but he tells them that it’s vulnerable to silver, and can pass as human. It could be anyone in the hospital, but lore says it will show its true form in a mirror.

Dean parks himself in front of one of the nurses stations where he has a clear view of a large security camera. He uses its mirrored surface to scan the face of everyone walking past. He’s joined by the good doctor Erica. With a conspiratorial air he tells her he’s hunting. She wonders why him. Why does he have to hunt the monsters. “Why not let someone else do it?” He jokes that he can’t find anyone else that dumb, before giving her the honest answer. “It’s my job.” The family business since 1982. She presses him, asking if there’s a quota. “How many people do you have to save?” He regards her a moment before giving her the answer we’ve come to expect – “All of them.” She asks him how, but his response is more of a why. “It’s the end of the world, okay? I mean, it’s a da[r]ned Biblical Apocalypse. And if I don’t stop it, and save everyone, then no one will, and we all die.” The doc echoes Jamie from “Monster Movie,” saying it’s a terrible burden to have such a crushing weight on one’s shoulders. She then does Jamie one better by asking him how he gets up in the morning. It hits him like a ton of bricks, and he realizes he doesn’t have an answer for her – or himself. Doctor Fuller walks by at that moment, and Dean reflexively glances up in the mirror. Eddie from Iron Maiden stares back him.

Evening, and Sam hands around the silver plated letter openers he’s liberated from three separate nurses stations. I challenge that a psychiatric hospital would have such implements of pointy laying around, but whatever. Dean spies Wendy walking down the hall, seemingly bent on a mission. He tells her not tonight, keep walking, and she does … right past him and up to Sam. She backs him against the wall before taking his head in her hands and kissing him. Sam passively resists, all the while with a “well, this is a curious turn of events, what?” look on his face. Wendy announces to the assembled that she wants him now. “He’s freakishly tall larger.” HAH! She saunters off, and Dean concedes defeat with a shrug. “You’ve had worse.” Double hah.

Sam tries to get the train back on the rails by telling Dean and Roger Workman that Fuller is on call, so they’ll have to hit him after lights out … all of them. The older man is so not down with that plan. Dean tries to logic the fear out of him. They need the backup. Sam tries empathy, telling him they know what happened in Albuquerque. His head tilt to Dean implies he’s lying, but it’s worth a shot. Roger Workman says they don’t know the half of it. He used to be like them. Used to think he was invincible … and then he found out he’s not. He starts to unspool. He’s not a hunter anymore. He’s useless. Why do they think he checked himself into “Hotel California”? He would give anything to help them … but he can’t. He turns and walks away, a broken, empty man. Dean glares at his retreating back, while Sam furrows in sympathy. He knows what it feels like, when walking away seems like the only option you can live with.

The boys split up to hunt for Fuller. Sam gets to him first. He jumps the doctor as he walks down the hall, slashing at his forearm and drawing blood. He swings wildly again as the doctor ducks and two burly orderlies grab Sam. The non-bungied letter opener clatters to the floor. Sam struggles mightily, tossing one orderly head first into a window, shattering the glass, and knocking the other one out with a massive blow to the jaw. The doctor takes off running, with Sam close behind him. He knocks him down and raises his hand for the death blow. He’s caught from behind by Roger Workman, who shouts at him that the cut isn’t burning. The doctor isn’t the wraith. With great effort, Sam comes out of his berserker state and drops the weapon. He is horrified by the realization that he lost control and nearly killed an innocent man.

Dean finds him later, locked in his room, counting dust motes in the air. He’s not okay. He’s better than okay. “I. Am. Ossum.” They gave him everything in the medicine cabinet. “It’s … spectacu … laaacular!” Sam floats down from his cloud long enough for a fuzzy moment of clarity. He grabs Dean by the arm and pulls him down to eye level. “The doctor wasn’t a wraith.” Dean knows. He made a mistake. Sam wonders if Dean isn’t seeing things. Maybe he’s going crazy. “Come on, I mean, you’ve been at least half crazy for a long time. Since you got back from Hell, or since before that even. Maybe you finally cracked.” Dean coldly rejects the suggestion, and insists that he’ll find the thing. Sam gets serious, gripping his brother by the shoulders, and telling him it’s okay. “You’re my brother. And I still love you.” Then he boops Dean’s nose. As one would. Hee.

Dean walks down the hall glowering at the air around him, cataloging all the ways he’s going to hurt the wraith. The hits just keep coming as Dr. Erica falls into step next to him. She’s worried. He’s not fine, despite his vehement insistence to the contrary. The pressure he puts himself under, the guilt? It’s killing him. “You can’t save everybody. You can’t … these days, you can’t save anybody, Dean.” A knifes edge slides into her voice, and the caring compassionate healer is gone. Dean stares at her in stunned disbelief as her tone turns mocking and she lays some truth on him. He got Ellen and Jo killed. He shot Lucifer but couldn’t gank him. He couldn’t stop Sam from killing Lilith, and “oh yeah, you broke the first seal. All you do is fail. Did you really think that you, Dean Winchester, with a GED and a ‘give em Hell’ attitude were going to beat the devil? Please. The world is going to burn and there is nothing that you can do about it.” Surprise turns to anger as Dean takes a step toward her, demanding to know who she is and how she knows all this. The sound of his raised voice attracts the attention of an orderly at the other end of the hall, who tells him to settle down. Dean asks him who Erica really is, and as the POV shifts, we see there’s no one there. Erica confirms that she’s a number Six. She’s all in his head. “Cause you are going crazy …” A completely freaked out Dean turns and walks down the hall. Everywhere he looks, every face he sees, a wraith stares back at him. He quickly begins to lose it, until he’s nothing but a frightened lump huddling in the corner.

Sam’s meds have evened out, and he’s allowed to speak to Dr. Fuller – in the presence of a large orderly, naturally. He apologizes to him, and the doctor is remarkably understanding. He knows Sam thought he was a monster, but he’s more interested in why. Sam doesn’t have an answer, and brushes the question away. It doesn’t matter. What is important is the moment of clarity he had the night before. He knows now there’s no such thing as monsters. The doctor doesn’t seem completely taken in, but he’s glad to hear Sam say it at least. However in his opinion, Sam has much bigger issues he needs to deal with. “People can learn to live with delusions, but the anger I saw in you … You hurt those two men, and you were going to kill me. The look in your eyes when you came after me, I … it was like you were barely even human. Like a man possessed.” Sam agrees, and seems near tears as he asks for a second chance. Fuller will allow him supervised visits to the day room, but warns him against another outburst. “I will transfer you to a facility that is equipped to handle violent patients, and believe me, they will be far, far, less forgiving.”

Sam is escorted into the day room by Burly. He hurries over to Dean, who’s sitting alone in the center of the room, staring blankly at nothing. He stands and turns haunted eyes on his brother, telling him its not the demon blood. “It never was. The problem was you. It was always you. The lies. Your arrogance. The black spot on your soul.” Sam turns to find they’ve been joined by two other people. The woman spits out that they’re all going to die because of him. It’s all his fault. Suddenly he’s in the center of a crowd of angry pajama clad patients, all of them pushing him, calling him evil. Loser. Calling him a freak. One of them throws a punch, and Sam fights back. He lashes out at whoever is nearest, but when the POV changes, we see he’s just punching at the air. Orderlies rush over, restraining him, and dragging him from the room. Over by the window, the real Dean sits alone. He’s hunched over, his hands shaking like an old man’s. He doesn’t seem to be aware of his brother screaming and struggling just a few feet away. Instead, he whispers quietly to himself. “What’s happening? What’s happening?”

Dean breaks into Roger Workman’s room after lights out. He’s resting fitfully and muttering to himself, but his eyes come open as soon as he hears the door click. He sits up, silver letter opener at the ready. Dean calls him off, all panicky shakes. He reports the bad news – that Sam is locked down – but the good news is, he’s gone crazy. “Crazy is the clue.” Dean is jittery and jumpy and struggles to hold it together long enough to work out his theory. “What if this thing doesn’t just feed on the insane. What if it makes people insane? Does that seem real?” Roger Workman agrees that it makes sense. Dean tries to think through how they could have gotten infected, and gets sidetracked by daddy issues. Roger Workman quickly tells him to focus. “The wraith, it poisoned us, it uh … maybe with venom, you know? By touch? Or, or venom? Or saliva?” Ding. The pressure cooker that is currently Dean’s brain spits out an answer. “Wendy.”

Dean and Roger Workman make their way to Wendy’s room. Their progress is slowed by Dean’s need to avoid cracks in the floor, but the sound of a woman’s scream sends them running. Dean kicks open the door to Wendy’s room only to find her unconscious on the bed with her wrists slit. Nurse Chipper sits on the bed next to her, and gives them a big, welcoming grin. The mirror says she’s a wraith, but Dean doesn’t trust his eyes. He asks if this is real, and gets his answer when Chipper moves her hand away from Wendy’s head, and reveals the long, needle sharp bone that was boring its way into the poor girl’s skull. She licks a bit of brain juice from it, and then retracts it back into her wrist. “Oh, it’s real sugar. It’s very real.”

Fight fight struggle fight. Roger Workman finds an opening and slashes at Chipper, leaving a large gash in her palm. She screams in pain as the flesh sizzles and burns around the cut. A quick glance at Dean shows that he’s okay, and Roger Workman goes to Wendy’s side. His face falls as he adds her to the list of people he couldn’t save … until she blinks and moves her head slightly. He realizes she’s still alive and tries to tend to her wounds. Dean is still on the floor, and Roger Workman urges him to fight through the fear and the concussion to go after the wraith. When the door opens moments later, Dean makes a break for it. He takes two steps out the door, and tries desperately to focus on the blood on the floor, and not lose himself in the crazy.

Sam meanwhile is luxuriating in crazy. He’s been placed in a white, padded room, tied to a cot by wrist and ankle restraints. I’m sure this doesn’t feel at all familiar to him. Chipper comes into the room to indulge in a little monologuing. First off? After everything she’s heard about hunters, she’s gotta say, she’s a little underwhelmed. All that tough talk about killing monsters? “It kind of made you easy to spot. Then all it took was a touch. And you were mine.” She goes on to gush about the many and varied offerings that the buffet of crazy has to offer. “This place is my own five-star restaurant.” She explains how “crazy brains” are the best kind, soaked as they are in “all sorts of hormones and chemicals that make them ~ooh~ delicious!” As she says all this she strokes a finger over Sam’s forehead, licking it with delight. And okay, EWW. Because that is actually an actress who is actually licking the actual sweat and makeup off Padalecki’s actual nugget. Kudos, I guess? For committing? Anyhoodle, as Sam struggles and grunts in fury, she makes the point that she doesn’t make the crazy. She only pushes the knob to 11. “That rage? That’s all you. You build your own Hell.” And now she’s going to make all of his problems disappear. The bone juts out of her wrist, as she pushes Sam’s head to the side, ready to enjoy a nice leisurely snack.

Chow time is interrupted as Dean bursts through the door. He’s wobbly and can barely see straight, but nobody else is dying tonight, certainly not Sam. He knows this isn’t going to end well for him, “but I’m crazy! So what the hey now.” Fight fight some more fight, and Chipper is easily able to knock the letter opener from Dean’s hand, and pin him to the wall by the throat. Out comes the bone and she slowly positions herself for optimal entry into Dean’s skull. Just as it brushes the skin of his forehead, he reaches up and grabs it with one hand. With great effort he snaps the bone off near the base. Chipper falls back shrieking as blood spurts though it like a geyser. Dean looks at the twisty horrible thing still in his hand and then lunges for the letter opener. He jabs it home, straight into her heart. As she dies, her spell seems to be instantly broken. From the bed, a wild eyed Sam checks to be sure. “You still crazy?” “Not any more than usual.” Dean bends down to release Sam and suggests they bid farewell to this fine healing establishment just as the alarm starts ringing.

They go out a side door and book their way across the grounds to the Impala and freedom. Roger Workman isn’t with them. Here’s hoping he can come up with a reasonable explanation for why he was in Wendy’s room, and doesn’t get sent up on murder charges. At least he has Dean’s mocha henley of hotness to keep him company. As they approach the car, Dean opines that maybe the couch jumper is right about psychiatry. Glib Dean! You’re being glib! Sam falls back a few steps. The things the wraith said … she was right. Sam admits that he’s mad at everything. The blame and the excuses won’t cut it anymore. The problem is him. “It’s me. It’s inside me. I am mad, all the time. And I don’t know why.” His voice breaks with emotion as the outburst ends. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. They’ve been here before, and he’s not doing this again. He doesn’t have the will or the room inside to deal with it. He’s struggling with demons of his own. And so he offers the only solution he can. He quietly tells Sam to stop. “Stop it. So what if you are? What are you going to do? You gonna take a leave of absence?” *cough* Again *cough* “You gonna say ‘yes’ to Lucifer? What? You’re going to take all that crap, and you’re going to bury it. You’re going to forget about it. Because that’s how we keep going. That’s how we don’t end up like Roger Workman.”

“Are you with me? Come on man, are you with me??”

Yeah, Dean. Sam’s with you. Begrudgingly tied up in the bonds of dangerous co-dependance, love, and duty, unconvinced that either one of you can keep up the denial much longer, but yes. He’s with you.

And we’re back! A stronger showing from writers Dabb and Loflin than “Family Remains” – but – no new ground was covered while touching on themes we’ve seen before without really delving into them in a meaningful way. Still, I found it to be a fun, funny little stand alone – “I don’t have any elephant books” and “PUDDING” just bought those boys a lot of good will from me. And honestly, I’m not really bothered by the one offs. I probably should be. I should probably be very cross that Show isn’t making more progress towards resolving the Apocalypse – but – I enjoyed this episode on its own merits. There were some plot points that bugged me, namely the fact that they left Roger Workman behind. At the very least he could be facing assault charges for Wendy, and they could decide that all the “suicides” really were murders, and pin them on him. It also bothers me that they left their clothes behind. Oh, poor mocha henley of hotness, we hardly knew ye. But, that being said, I liked the monster and the plot was twisty enough for me to keep things interesting. As for the character issues, I wonder if the coda was Show’s way of laying the groundwork for Detroit. Somebody could end up saying yes, but the who may not be a foregone conclusion.

In the previous episode, Lucifer told Sam to keep the fire in his belly burning, because he was going to need it. Sam’s been having little moments of clarity throughout this season, realizing how destructive the anger is. Dean said it way back in Wendigo, “you can’t keep it burning over the long haul, it’s gonna kill you.” Sam’s tendency is to deflect or blame. There’s always a good reason for what he’s feeling, just don’t ask him to look too closely at it. Even when Dr. Fuller asks him why he’s so angry, he’s says it’s not important. Just give him a second chance. Sam has shown he can control the rage – as he did against Larry and his other brother Daryl in “Free to Be,” but control isn’t enough. He’s got to find a way to let it go. Maybe he’s finally ready to make good on those chances and figure out a way to diffuse the bomb before it takes the world with him.

Dean was also asked a “why” in this episode, and not for the first time. He asked it himself while standing over John’s grave in the Djinn!verse – “Why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? What about us? Why do we have to sacrifice everything?” The answer then was the same as it is now. It’s his job. Because there is no one else. Dean knows what’s in the dark, and that knowledge is power. With power, comes responsibility. When Jamie asked him again in “Monster Movie,” Dean was able to answer with a renewed sense of purpose. He’d been pulled back from Hell, and he had a mission. He held on to that belief until he was forced to admit that it was just the lie he tells himself. So he pushes it all down, and just keeps doing the job because there is nothing else. I talked several times early in the season about Dean going through a process of burning away what he didn’t need. Letting things go. I don’t think he can ever let go of his sense of duty, but he might decide that duty requires him to give up control. To let someone else carry the burden. It might be Dean who says yes.

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YAY – soooo happy to have SPN back! And YAY to the second power to have Whitney’s SPN recaps back! Being the obsessed fan I am, I read a lot of SPN recaps and yours is always my favorite. Perfect blend of recapping noteworthy plot points / dialogue and enhancing the episode with your humorous additions (“Glib Dean!” lol) and insightful commentary. Rock on.

That closing conversation (and others similar they’ve had in the past) makes me think of a quote from the show Numb3rs: “See, this is why we sweep stuff under the rug, so no one gets hurt.” “Yeah, until you sweep too much under, then you end up with a really bumpy rug. Creates a tripping hazard.” It was said sort of in jest on that show but it really seems to me to apply to Sam and Dean. Dean either thinks he just can’t deal with their issues aloud or is too frightened- saying it aloud may make it true- or it simply hurts too much to think about. Sam has always seamed to desperately want things out in the open, no secrets- at least in regard to what others know about him- he does tend (pretty much always?) to hide what he himself knows. He’s mentioned or implied several times that he wished John and Dean would have just told him the truth in the first place- about hunting, about himself, etc- and that maybe if everything had been out in the open and he knew what he was dealing with he would’ve been better able to cope/ deal with it. And their secrets seem to be part of what made him think he couldn’t trust them with certain things.

And even when he was keeping so many things to himself- whether about his visions, knowing about the demon blood, Ruby,etc- I think he still wished he could confide in Dean, but just was afraid of his reaction. Sam has a need to talk because he doesn’t know what else to do- he wants, thinks he still needs Dean’s help to deal with everything. Does he? Or does he really have more strength than he believes? Or maybe it’s just easier to be weak, let Dean “take the wheel”, lean on him for a crutch- maybe Sam’s still learning how to take responsibility for himself and his own actions. Maybe that’s partly what he meant in “Fallen Idols” when he told Dean that he was going to have to let him grow up.

On a similar line, did Dean ever tell Sam about the events of “The End”? It seams maybe Dean thinks he’s protecting Sam by not telling him but if Sam finds out, how will he react to Dean having kept such a secret from him? We already know how he reacted when Dean told him about what John told him before he died. It’s interesting contrasting Sam’s blowup there in Hunted (and many other times) with Dean’s customary “let’s just not talk about it” sort of reaction to things.

One way or another, they’d better hurry and sort things out before they’re forced to by a very bumpy rug.